They sing to her, the Sirens. She knows not why she can hear their cry. Surely it was only the men that they lured to their deaths. Entranced, she followed the beautiful song and gazed up at the woman perched on the edge of the cliff. The tune was sorrowful, the words indistinguishable. Yet still she felt herself leaving the dry beach and stooping herself in the salty waters between them, closing the distance. The song grew urgent as she began to feel her feet float above the seafloor. Suddenly the tone and tempo changed.
Turn back, go home little one. It is not you who needs to swim tonight.
Her wits returned to her and she swiftly paddled the distance back to the solid ground of the beach. She paused as she noticed a figure bypass her on her way back home. The town mayor meandered towards the beach, and fascinated as to what he was doing so late at night, she followed him back to the shore. That was when she heard the Siren’s song yet again. But this time she was distanced. She could make out the words perfectly.
You are a loathsome one, Mr Mayor, The ones you betray the ones that you should protect are the ones you have led astray, so come into my watery keep and let my melody sing you to sleep.
Newspaper clippings flashed through her mind of the scandals, the missing girls and the image of her sister crying herself to sleep at night was one that would never leave her mind. So she saluted the Siren and the creature hooted back in thanks as the man slowly drowned in the shallow waters, lulled into a forever sleep by the woman mourning the innocence of her children, perched on the edge of the cliff.